


Copper

by blackstar



Series: 30 day writing challenge [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 Days of Writing, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Police Officer Derek, Possessive Behavior, Smut, christening the uniform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackstar/pseuds/blackstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Derek's first day working at the police station tomorrow, so he and Stiles have to christen his uniform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Copper

**Author's Note:**

> Day 8.  
> Gosh, I'm sleepy.

“What are dirty pennies made out of?” Stiles says hurriedly before letting out another loud moan to fill the room, almost a shout, filled with notes of humor amongst his arousal. He is pinned to Derek’s bed, in Derek’s apartment, almost naked and currently being taken apart by Derek’s mouth. His hips buck as Derek’s tongue runs a long hot trail sideways, from one end of his jawline to the other, in order to finally bite at him, not as lightly as Stiles would imagine is considered normal for foreplay.

“Really, Stiles? Right” another nip “ _now_? Of all the times you could do your --- ” he gets cut off by Stiles yelling, just on the side of not being too loud for his werewolf ears:

“Dirty copper!” and then Stiles burst out laughing, his whole body contorting in these intense fits of glee.

“I’m going to leave you, I swear.” Derek mumbles and sets Stiles’ hands free. Stiles responds to that instantaneously, stretching his long legs around Derek and locking them behind his ass, keeping him where he is.

“No, you’re not, _Officer Hale_ ” Stiles teases, his hands worming around Derek’s neck, lightly pulling on the collar of his uniform on their way. Stiles smiles, not as wide as before, more intimate and private “It’s your first day tomorrow, we have to christen it before you go. I’m not letting you go into the dangerous streets of Beacon Hills without the best memories possible in this uniform, so you would have more incentive to come back. In one piece. And bring the uniform back intact.” Stiles pulls himself up a bit and pulls Derek down a bit until their mouths meet.

It’s one the affectionate kisses they share every day, all the time; one of those, to which even Scott is used to, full of feeling, tight and just a little painful.

“You don’t have to worry about me.” Derek answers, when they pull apart, then he smirks “And I’m starting to think you have something about a man in a uniform…” he wiggles his trapped hips so that they brush against Stiles’ groin and make him moan.

“Please do not in any way refer to my father while we’re in bed, _please_ , Derek.” Stiles croaks as he tries to get his legs to open wider, to accommodate Derek better and allow him more access. Derek, the bastard, laughs, and lifts one arm to his collar to start unbuttoning the khaki shirt. “And don’t you dare pull this off of yourself, I was not kidding about the christening.” Derek lifts an eyebrow, as if that’s a real response, and pops a few buttons in quick succession.

“So you want me to go to my first day at work tomorrow, reeking of sex?” he asks, his voice getting lower.

“Sex, and me. Me, more importantly, because you _look_ like sex all the time and the added bonus of me, aka being taken, is all that matters in this situation.” Derek raises his other eyebrow as well. “In a word, yes.” Derek starts laughing and the next second they’re kissing again.

This time it quickly goes into nothing like what they do in front of people (except that one time, when Stiles got hurt and that one time they hadn’t seen each other for 3 weeks, but those are exceptions.), nothing even remotely chaste or controlled in the way they clash against each other, mouth and tongue and teeth, and nails raking across skin, and filthy moans filling the air. Stiles forgets he has to keep his legs tight around Derek because he knows he’s not going anywhere and he forgets about strictly keeping Derek’s uniform on. He forgets everything, which is not the feel of just _Derek_ all over him, the taste and smell and texture of Derek, the pressure and pull that is his to pull apart and put back together again. The longing, the pain, the pleasure, of all Derek does to him is overwhelming.

His mind is not all there when they finally start undressing each other in their heap of limbs on Derek’s bed. The air is humid and his skin is already glazed with sweat by the time Derek runs his fingers on the bare skin of his back, Stiles’ t-shirt discarded somewhere in the background. When his lips are free, Stiles moans out Derek’s name again and again, like a chant, until Derek seals their mouths together again. The struggle for air is unimportant and neglected in favor of their collective unspoken objective of just getting closer to each other, removing layers of clothes until they are bare against each other and then try to remove even the air that separates them.

“Derek, Derek” Stiles pants as he barely pulls away from kissing and biting Derek’s neck, leaving quickly fading marks in the werewolf’s skin. He looks up to meet Derek’s lust-blown pupils and promptly forgets what he wanted to say, why he stopped the whole ordeal. Oh, yes, right. “Derek,” Stiles pulls one of his hands from where it was holding onto Derek’s thigh and runs it along his cheek instead. “I love you.” He says, quietly, while their eyes are still locked together, their bodies intertwined beyond recognition. Stiles smiles, a little upward tug at his lips before placing a kiss on one of Derek’s fingers, without even looking which one he’s gotten. “You’re going to keep safe, right? Not be too reckless and keep a look out for your own ass as well, right, Derek? Because not-wolfsbane-laced bullets may not necessarily kill you but I don’t want to contemplate the many ‘ifs’. You’ll think of my mental health and you’ll be as safe, right?”

Derek laughs a little and leans forward, enough to touch their foreheads together.

“You sound like you’re sending me off to fight in a war. I’ll mainly be working in the office, don’t worry.”

Stiles snorts.

“Yeah, any office in Beacon Hills, and especially the police station, is a danger zone on the world map, don’t talk crap to me. And besides, I know you’re not going to stay in the office for long, my dad’s gonna make you supernaturally help him with cases. He’s practical that way, just like I am.” He smiles smugly, which makes Derek groan in turn.

“You yourself said no talking about your dad in the bed, yet you are the only one talking about him. While we’re naked and almost inside of each other, what’s wrong with you?” Derek laughs and headbutts Stiles, their everything sliding together with the movement. Stiles hisses and closes his eyes.

“Speaking of inside each other, I need you to do that. Like, be. Inside me. Right now.” This time, Stiles rolls his hips deliberately and makes Derek lose his balance, pushing them both in a different position, closer to the nightstand. Stiles is immediately impressed by Derek’s skills to always get them to the lube in the most efficient way possible, without actually disentangling them from each other. Stiles adds, quietly, almost a whisper “You dirty copper.” And then bursts out laughing for a second before the movement stirs another wave of pleasure though his body and he forgets all of his words.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my sad, sad attempt at writing porn, as I promised I'd try. I always end up with the fluffy stuff, what's wrong with me? :D 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading <3  
> Leave a comment if you believe I can write more... uh, porny porn and I shall try. Maybe. Someday. :D :D


End file.
